June Sunshine

[On]

She was beautiful, as all women are when they become engulfed by passion. Her poison of choice was reading and she drank it heavily every evening on her balcony, in the light of a dusk-covered sky.

When i first noticed her, it was only just a passing glance as i walked on my way to the kitchen. Our balconies faced each other but oddly enough i never saw her there before. Had she moved in recently? As the days went on, she appeared there, every evening, like clockwork. I could only admire her discipline, which drew my curiosity further and further. Why read on the balcony? And why in the evening when the lighting is somewhat poor? I took a step back and asked myself: “Why do i care about a total stranger? Do i have some sort of hidden environmental OCD and all of a sudden her presence on that balcony aches like a thorn stuck in my skull?” I felt a pile of emotions clustering together inside and before i knew it, i was in my balcony ready to shout a “Hello!” to her when all of sudden she raised her head, smiled and shyly waved my way, after which she burrowed her head back into the book she was holding. With gaping eyes, i just stood there. Shocked. Days upon days had passed and nothing seemed to change, to the point where she became part of my daily scenery, but now… she smiled at me. Breathing in deeply, i lit up a cigarette and let myself fall into one of the beach chairs on my balcony. “What did just happen? Why do i feel so flustered over a simple smile?” I poked my head above the solid balcony railing, no further than eye level, like a shark stalking its prey, trying to figure out why she made me feel that way. Her face looked average with imperfections here and there, sun-colored hair, tucked in a sloppy bun leading towards a suave swan-like neck, entrenched by firm collarbo… “What am i doing?” I immediately ducked back behind the solid railing. My heart was galloping, while with each inhaled breath, jumping over the railing onto her balcony. I’ve watched countless women on park benches reading books and female co-workers browsing over documents and none had this effect on me, so why her? It doesn’t make any sen… “Can i help you with something?”, she asked in a deep but frail tone. At the sound of her voice my knees went soft. I couldn’t hide any longer, so i grabbed the railing, pulling myself up. “Uhm, well…” Should i lie? Shit! I can’t. That’s not me. I’m too honest to lie successfully under this pressure. “…i’ve noticed you reading every evening on your balcony and somehow i became very curious about it.” Yes! Half the truth is still truth. Omission isn’t lying. It’s just a way of playing with your cards close to your chest. “How so?”, she asked. “I’m usually curious and seeing you every evening there, made me wonder what kind of person you are.”, i replied. Bingo. Bomb defused! “I would say that i’m pretty normal and boring. I like to read…”. She lifted the book off her knees. “…write and swim from time to time.” Wow! So open to a complete stranger without thinking twice. “What do you usually read? What kind of genre do you like to write about?”, i quickly asked. Hold your horses, boy, before you come across as desperate. This isn’t an interrogation. No, it’s too late. I’ve already went overboard. To my astonishment though, she began to smile after which she replied with a half-hearted tone while looking to the side: “Erotic novels.” My eyes went wide. “What?” She placed her hands over her face. “Please don’t make me repeat that?” My hands were tightly squeezing the railing. “No, it’s ok. I thought you said ero…” “Stop!”, lifting her head from her palms while impaling me with a serious frown. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, i like to write in blogs. Romance, for that matter. I know. It’s a pretty weird and outdated genre for a guy to write about in this day and age, but i don’t see why i should be ashamed of that. Neither should you, as long as you’re giving it your best.” By the time i finished my speech, with lips slightly parted, her eyes seemed to sparkle, bathed in the carmine hue floating around us. “No way! I want to read. Gimme!”, standing up and grabbing the railing. The quiet, lonesome woman, reading books every evening on her balcony became a giddy, passionate girl with a smile from ear to ear in a split second in front of my eyes. And she was so beautiful. I needed more of her. I needed her closer. “I would, but i have a proposition for you. Something better than reading.” She raised her eyebrows. “Better than reading? You’re joking, right?” I shook my head. “Would you agree in joining me in blogging?” She looked to the side, arching one corner of her mouth. “I don’t know. It seems like a lot of extra work.” I let out a hearty “Heh!” before i continued with the details. “Considering the rewards, the work put in is almost nothing. I would write a blog post after which you would read it and reply to me with another blog post. It would be like playing ping pong, or tennis.” Her face went ablaze with wonder and delight. “Oh my God, that would be… i can’t find the words for it.” I smiled and nodded. “I know.” Her facial expression was filled with worry one second later. “But how are we going to do this if you write romantic stuff and i… my stuff?” I continued smiling. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get used to one another’s writing style and learn how to play around or integrate it. It’s going to be fine.” Another smile from her hit me. “Awesome!” As we both looked around us, darkness settled in. “Well, i think it’s time we head back in.”, i suggested. “Yes, we should. Before i forget, what is your name?”, she asked. “I’m E. P. and yours?”, i asked in return. Smiling, she replied: “My name is June Sunshine.”